The Opportunity to Be Fully Human
by sophiedoodle
Summary: A companion piece to "To Feel So Much." From Janeway's POV. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

The Opportunity to Be Fully Human

Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager, its characters, etc. belong to Paramount.

Author's Note: When I originally began the piece "To Feel So Much," I was actually planning on writing it from Janeway's point of view, exploring the ramifications of being assimilated by the Borg. But the characters just kind of ran away from me, intent on telling their own story :) However, I couldn't get away from wanting to explore Janeway's perspective of the events so I decided to try this companion piece from her POV. Please let me know what you think! (I don't want to repeat myself from the first story and bore anyone!)

**If you haven't read "To Feel So Much," please read it first or some of the references won't make as much sense**

Chapter 1

Kathryn woke up in Sickbay to the sound of Chakotay sobbing. He was slumped in a chair at her bedside, head cradled in his hands. She just watched him for a moment, struggling through the haze of sleep and fatigue that seemed to be enveloping her brain. She knew it would hurt to move, hurt even to talk—but just watching him cry would be even more painful.

"Chakotay," she called softly. He seemed oblivious to her words so she said his name a second time. He picked his head up, staring at her with a mixture of horror, anguish, and guilt.

"Kathryn, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." He made no attempt to conceal his sorrow, and she understood at once that he was only apologizing for disturbing her. Her heart ached as she saw the desperation in his eyes, and she followed her instincts before she even fully realized what she was saying.

"Chakotay, come here." She held her arms out to him. He hesitated, and she knew why. This wasn't like her, reaching out to hold him.

"Please." The word tore from her lips before she could stop herself. She knew he needed to be held, needed to be comforted. And so—she now understood—did she. After another brief pause, he dragged his chair closer and made his way towards her arms. She pulled his head down to her chest, cradling him against her the way you would a distraught child. At first, he rested against her only tentatively, but as her arms tightened around him and her fingers moved through his hair, he relaxed into her grip, and she felt him shaking with sobs.

Kathryn closed her eyes, relishing the feel of him in her arms. It should have seemed unusual that she was even contemplating her own pleasure in the face of his obvious despair, but it made perfect sense to her. She had been assimilated by the Borg. Although the Doctor had counteracted many of the effects beforehand, she had still been a drone, a half-_machine_.

Empty.

Without feeling.

Yes, she had definitely been herself in Unimatrix Zero. She had definitely been herself with the Borg Queen.

But for those quiet moments in between, she had been Borg. The thought still frightened her, gnawing at her conscience and leaving her wondering what really made one human. Feelings, she reminded herself now as she continued to stroke Chakotay's hair. Love. The way she loved the man who was cradled in her arms.

She vowed to herself that she would never push her feelings away again. She vowed to herself that from that moment on, she would never again give up the opportunity to be fully human.

_To feel._

Kathryn looked down at the man she was holding, her eyes tracing the angles of his face, the chiseled features she knew in her sleep. Watching the tears sliding in wayward paths down his cheeks, noting the angles and curves of the tattoo that graced his temple. Her exploring fingers gravitated towards its flowing lines, committing them to the memory of her touch, delineating to herself the path she would follow from this day forward.

She heard him moan deep in his throat, felt _his_ emotions welling up in her. She knew it had been hard for him when she had walked off the bridge that day; she had seen it in his eyes, felt it in the trembling of his fingers when she had taken his hand.

Heard it in his voice when he had stood in front of her in the Ready Room and begged her not to go.

_Kathryn, please. Please don't do this._

_Chakotay, I have to. Think about all those people we can help. Think of what it will mean to them, to their lives, their futures._

_What about your life? Your future?_

_I'll be back. I promise, Chakotay._

_Don't make promises you can't keep, Kathryn. _

He had turned and started to walk away, but for once, she had gone after him, stopped him with a firm hand on his arm.

_I'll be back._

Her words had been fierce as had the kiss she had suddenly pressed against his lips. He had gasped, his eyes wide and full of tears. And she had known in that moment that no matter what she was promising, what she was really saying to him was goodbye.

And, of course, she realized belatedly, _he_ knew it as well. Knew _her_ as well as anyone ever had.

Kathryn struggled to suppress the sobs that were now threatening to escape her constricted throat.

"It's okay," she murmured, gently caressing his lips with trembling fingertips. "I'm right here. I'm fine."

She should have known it was the wrong thing to say to him, to this man who loved her fiercely, fully, unconditionally. She should have known that even this man couldn't swallow her saying "I'm fine" one more time—not after what she had just been through. She _wasn't _fine. And neither was he.

He broke.

Yelled at her.

Cried.

And then ran out, leaving her in the extreme silence of a deserted Sickbay in the middle of the night where the only thing she could hear was his final words echoing in endless, taunting chorus. Perhaps her theme song for the whole experience.

_I hate you for doing this to me, Kathryn._

I know, she thought.

"I know," she said.

I do, too.


	2. Chapter 2

The Opportunity to Be Fully Human

Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager, its characters, etc. belong to Paramount.

Chapter 2

Kathryn lay stiffly on the biobed in Sickbay, staring up at the plain gray ceiling. Its featureless façade did not calm her as it was undoubtedly intended to do; to the contrary, its glaring _uniformity_ only served to further unnerve her as it merely emphasized the day-to-day motions of her life as it had been for the past six years in the Delta Quadrant. Without question, being the captain of a ship like Voyager had been neither uneventful nor tedious, and there had been many days when she had wished that the oceans of her life would roll just a little more gently. But when it came to _her_, to who and what she really was inside, all she could see anymore was flatness, a stark, metallic surface somehow resembling in her mind an impenetrable steel bulkhead behind which her emotions, needs, wants, desires, essence had been safely sequestered.

She had taken steps from the beginning to protect herself and to protect them from her. But all she had succeeded in accomplishing was hiding herself behind that door and isolating those people she loved even more than they already were out here in the Delta Quadrant. And, of course, Chakotay—loyal, steadfast, and infinitely more than she deserved—had been slammed in the heart by that escape hatch more times than she cared to remember.

Who would have thought that the intrepid Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Starship Voyager was, when you got down to the bottom line, just a coward in captain's pips?

At least when it came to the things that really mattered.

Kathryn felt the sudden, agonizing ache in her throat, the sheer burn behind her eyes and knew she had to get out of Sickbay before she could no longer hold it in.

"Computer, activate Emergency Medical Hologram," she rasped, swallowing thickly to avert the tears that she only hoped she could contain until the door to her quarters was safely locked. The Doctor immediately appeared in front of her, looking slightly disoriented in the peacefulness of the room until he realized who had summoned him. He quickly strode across the room and to her bedside, where she had painstakingly maneuvered herself into an upright position. He laid a quick hand on her shoulder, already passing a tricorder over her body as she had known he would.

"Captain? Are you all right? Are you in pain?" His voice held deep concern, and this _human_ side of him—which she knew after all these years was genuine and not just another patient-doctor subroutine—almost undid her before she could even say a word. She coughed to smother an involuntary sob.

"No, no, Doctor. I'm fine. I just-" She searched her mind for an acceptable excuse, something plausible that she should have fabricated prior to his activation. She cursed her own fatigue and emotions for the glaring oversight. "I'm a little sore from all those Borg devices and, well, you know these biobeds aren't made for comfort." She tried on a slight smile of commiseration, hoping the lightness of her tone would detract from the anxiety beneath it.

"Yes, Captain, you will definitely be sore for several days. Your body needs time to heal. Your physiology just underwent two major transformations in only a few days. It's not surprising to find it protesting." The Doctor reached for a hypospray from a nearby tray and busied himself adjusting the settings.

"Here," he said, raising the hypospray to her neck. "This should ease the pain and also help you sleep through the night." Kathryn caught his arm before the device could make contact with her skin. She took a deep breath and smiled again, reassuringly this time.

"I appreciate your concern, Doctor," she replied. Had there been enough warmth in her voice to fool him? "But I really think that I would be more comfortable in my own quarters, in my own bed. After all, it _has_ been several days since I have been able to completely rest and relax. How about if I wear some type of monitor so you can check up on me whenever you would like, and I'll be back first thing in the morning." She hopped—okay, slid rather stiffly—off the biobed and stood in front of him.

The Doctor stared at her. His eyes reflected more than just disbelief, and she immediately realized her error. In attempting to pacify him into letting her go, she had been way too conciliatory in her comments, an extremely and utterly un-Captain Janeway-like thing to do. She mentally cursed herself. She should have just given him a direct order and gone on with it. The problem was that she didn't know if she could summon her usual irritation and impatience at the moment. The Doctor moved closer and again touched her shoulder.

"Captain," he said firmly, eyeing her with more than just a tinge of distrust, "I appreciate your willingness to accommodate me; however, as your doctor, I would be remiss in my duties and almost certainly endangering your health if I allowed you to return to your quarters at this time. Perhaps we can discuss the matter in a couple of days." With that, he whirled and stalked towards his office.

"Doctor!" Kathryn found that her sudden desperation gave her an edge, and she whipped out her full command voice. "Doctor, I am returning to my quarters. Immediately. You yourself told me my body needed rest, and I'm not getting any here." The Doctor turned slowly toward her, a sardonic grin stamped across his face.

"Now there's the captain we all know and love," he remarked sarcastically. "I was beginning to wonder if I hadn't removed all of the Borg neural interfaces, and they were interfering with your personality. However, there clearly _is_ something wrong with your personality if you truly believe I am going to release you from Sickbay of your own recognizance. Now unless you'd like me to relieve you officially of duty, I suggest you lay back down on that bed and _get some rest_!" The Doctor's face was now thunderous, and his eyes narrowed even further when she shot him her death glare and stepped towards the doors of Sickbay. The Doctor tapped his commbadge.

"Doctor to Commander Chakotay," he snapped. Kathryn froze, feeling her blood drain to her fingertips. Of all people, why…

But of course, she knew the answer to that question. Who else would the Doctor call? He knew how close she and Chakotay were, knew that her First Officer was usually the only one whose advice she occasionally hearkened to, mainly because he was almost as stubborn as she was.

And perhaps, she thought, feeling suddenly nauseated, he was _more _stubborn. He was still angry. She could hear the clipped tones he used with the Doctor, the way he tersely dismissed him. The way he dismissed _her_. It was obvious he wanted nothing to do with her.

Heaven help her.

She gasped as the full import of the conversation washed over her, chilling her to the core. She felt a sound, somewhere between a gasp and a strangled sob, spurt from her throat, and she immediately pressed a hand to her mouth as the Doctor's gaze turned toward her face, transforming at once from annoyance to alarm. He walked over to her, but she backed away, clinging desperately to every trick of command she'd been taught since her days at Starfleet Academy and even a few Vulcan disciplines that Tuvok had taught her over the years. She took several shaky breaths, but it was like trying to squeeze air from a deflated balloon. As a final measure, she even dug her fingernails into the skin of her palms until she was sure she was going to bleed, but it was useless. She started to cry anyway, and even the astonished look on the Doctor's face wasn't enough to make her stop.

"Captain." His voice was softer, kinder, than she had ever heard it.

"Please." It was the only word she could think of to say. "Please, Doctor. Let me go. I need to be alone." They faced each other for several moments, the only sound between them the sobs that kept pouring unheeded from her throat. Then the Doctor nodded and gestured towards the Sickbay doors. She took off at a half-run and then thought of Chakotay's similar exit and slowed her steps.

"Call me if you need anything, Captain."

The Doctor's words floated from behind her, but she found that she was unable to even to form the words to tell him thank you.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

The Opportunity to Be Fully Human

Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager, its characters, etc. belong to Paramount.

Chapter 3

The turbolift ride to the bridge seemed at once to take forever and no time at all. When the door whooshed open, she found herself stepping forward into the familiar environs of the bridge, seeing the faces of her crew and basking in their smiles as they noticed her arrival.

"Captain on the bridge," Harry announced, standing erect at his post with a quite un-Starfleet grin plastered across his shining face. The bridge crew rose in unison and stood at attention as she made her way towards the command chairs. She met them with a gracious half-smile and a nod, swallowing through the sudden tightness in her throat. As she walked, she held each of their gazes in turn, touching a shoulder, patting a hand. They were her crew, _her family_. She continued on until she reached her first officer who was already ensconced in his seat, studying data on the console between their chairs.

"Good morning, Commander. It's good to see you." She couldn't stop the warmth from flooding her voice, the unrestrained smile from overtaking her lips, her joy at seeing him trickling over her usual command distance. They hadn't spoken for three days, not since that night in Sickbay, and she had missed him with everything in her. She needed to make everything right. She needed to tell him how she felt. How _much_ she felt.

Heck, what she really needed was _him._

But his next actions told her that he certainly _didn't_ need her.

"Captain." Chakotay's voice was cold, and his gaze didn't as much as flicker in her direction. She might as well have been invisible. Actually, she would have preferred that—it was better than being deliberately and publicly almost-ignored. She felt her heart plummet through her stomach and down to her toes. He was still angry with her. He _hadn't_ gotten over it, he hadn't worked through it.

Kathryn felt herself draw inward, felt her lungs squeezing until there was hardly breath left to sustain her. She truly had thought that things would be all right once she was back on duty. Chakotay had been her constant companion for years, and she thought she knew him. He had never—_never_—hesitated to forgive her, to take her back into his life and into his heart. No matter what hurt she had caused between them.

What was different this time?

_I hate you for doing this to me, Kathryn._

She winced at those haunting words, replayed in her head more times than she cared to count in the past three days. _He_ was different this time. Something inside of him had been broken, his unrelenting bond to her had been snapped. Usually it was him that was left picking up the pieces of her anger. This time it was her holding the other end of the line.

She didn't know if she was strong enough to hold on without him by her side.

_Stop it, Kathryn. You're in the middle of the bridge. You can't fall apart._

She drew in a very deep, very long, very difficult breath and straightened her back, tilting her chin into its defiant stance and pulling her command cloak around her. She was hiding once again, knowing that she would have to forgive herself for already breaking her vow. But at this moment, there was no other way.

"Do you have anything new to report regarding repairs to the ship, Commander?" she snapped, letting her authoritative tone speak for itself. He could ignore her personally, but he _would_ respond to her as the captain of this vessel.

To her relief, he replied immediately. She was loathe to initiate conflict between the two of them in front of the bridge crew and was relieved that he was maintaining some type of professional courtesy.

The next forty-five minutes lingered in what could only be described as a perpetual tide of slow-motion. She fought the urge to ask Ensign Kim about ten thousand times if there was something wrong with the ship's internal chronometer. She stared at the vast empty viewscreen hopefully, straining her eyes to find some hidden nebula, spatial anomaly or even a hostile alien ship that was eluding the sensors. She crossed and uncrossed her legs until her thigh muscles began to ache and then did the same with her arms.

Just as she was about to admit defeat and retreat to her Ready Room without the repair updates, Ensign Kim's console beeped, and she sighed in relief, much louder than she'd anticipated in the very careful quiet of the bridge. With lightning fingers, she downloaded the reports into a PADD.

"You have the bridge, Commander." She didn't look back to notice if he had acknowledged her words.

In the seclusion of her Ready Room, Kathryn Janeway sat down at her desk, typed in a few commands onto the PADD, and then attempted to read the updates. But the words swam before her eyes, and suddenly she no longer cared what they said so she gave up, laid her head down in her arms, and cried.

**********

The door to the Ready Room chimed, and Kathryn answered it without thinking, engrossed in the console before her as she mulled over prioritizing the remaining repairs to the ship while taking into account their depleted energy stores. The encounter with the Borg vessels had not been kind to Voyager, and she had been left in a weakened and somewhat vulnerable state. A shadow fell across her desk, and she glanced up, startled. Then she quickly turned her attention back to the console when she realized it was Chakotay. She mentally kicked herself and considered doing it literally. Although the deluge had stopped much earlier in the day, she had been unable to stifle the occasional tears that slipped down her cheeks even when her mind was a million miles away from thinking about him. She had eventually just given up and kept a tissue close by to wipe them away when they got bad enough to drip onto her desk.

And now here he was. And here she was, as vulnerable and weakened as Voyager. She knew he had seen her tears.

_Brace for impact. Here comes another blow._

"What is it, Commander?" she bit out, gathering every ounce of command tone into her voice.

Chakotay's response was brusque. "Ensign Vorik just delivered this to me. We may have a serious problem with the warp core." He handed her the PADD which she quickly perused, shaking her head.

"Is there anything else, Commander?" She hoped there wasn't.

He hesitated for just a fraction of a second. Or had she imagined it? Their eyes met, briefly, intensely, then he spun on his heel and left.

And then she answered her own question. Yes, there was something else. There was definitely something else.

_I love you. _

_I need you._

_I don't know how to live without you._

_But I don't know how to live with you like this._

And then the simplest something of all.

_Please forgive me._

And for the second time that day, Kathryn Janeway buried her face in her hands and gave in to her aching heart.


	4. Chapter 4

The Opportunity to Be Fully Human

Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager, its characters, etc. belong to Paramount.

Chapter 4

Kathryn leaned back into the cushions of the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table. A PADD was clutched in one hand and the table held the remnants of a barely touched dinner, but her head was back, her eyes were closed, and she had no intention of moving anytime soon. She had just finished her first shift since returning to the ship, and she was utterly exhausted. Her back ached, her head pounded, and just for good measure, her throat was pretty sore, too. Not for the first time that day, she wished she had followed the Doctor's advice and remained in Sickbay for a few more days.

No, she wished she had remained _unconscious_ for a few more days. Then the confrontation with Chakotay that night would never have occurred and maybe he would have had time to come to terms with his feelings before—

The door to Kathryn's quarters chimed, and she immediately stiffened. Maybe if she ignored the first chime, the visitor would give up, and she could reclaim the relative peace and solitude of her quarters. The door chimed again. No such luck. Kathryn stood up, feeling flushed with anger. There was only one person bold enough to ring her chime twice. Chakotay. He had come to her quarters a million times over the past six years, sometimes bringing dinner, sometimes bringing flowers, sometimes bringing just _him_, which was always more than enough for her.

After today, he must be empty-handed.

She stood up and walked towards the door, absently fingering the phaser tucked in her belt. She supposed she could always shoot him. After all, he was a big man, a phaser set to stun wouldn't cause any permanent damage. Had she ever considered shooting a man she loved before? Justin? Mark? No, with the two of them her emotions had never been this intense, this confused. Neither of them had ever had the power to hurt her like Chakotay did. Like he had.

So, she contemplated, if she did decide to shoot him, how exactly would she enter it into her log?

_Captain's Log, Supplemental. This evening I decided to shoot my first officer because…well, because he pissed me off. _

_And he tore my heart to pieces in the process._

That was one way to be fully human.

The door chimed a third time, and Kathryn jumped, startled. She had been so deep in her half-serious reverie that she had completely forgotten there was someone at the door. If it was Chakotay, she was upping the phaser setting just for his tenacity.

"Come in," she growled, and the door to her quarters slid open to reveal…

…Tom Paris.

Kathryn stepped backwards in sheer surprise.

"Tom," she exclaimed. Tom gave her an uncomfortable grin.

"Captain," he mumbled. "Listen, I'm sorry for bothering you off hours. I hope I didn't wake you." He nervously tapped his fingers at his sides.

"No, it's fine. Come in, Lieutenant." Kathryn gestured towards the couch, and Tom tentatively sat down at one end, his back ramrod straight. She sat at the other end, crossing her legs with careful casualness and turning to face him. He was fidgeting and looking everywhere but at her.

"Tom, are you all right?" she finally asked as the silence continued to pervade the room. She had never seen the cocky pilot so unsure of himself.

"Ma'am?" he said. "I mean, yes, Captain, I'm fine. I just—I just wanted to check on you." Kathryn grinned.

"You mean the Doctor sent you to make sure I hadn't worked myself to death today," she said wryly. "Go ahead. Scan me. I have nothing to hide. Well, except for about ten cups of coffee too much." A genuine smile flitted across Tom's lips this time, and at once he seemed to relax, his shoulders slumping back into the couch cushions and his hands finally quieting in his lap.

"Actually, Captain, the Doctor didn't send me. I'm not here to scan you," he admitted. "I came to see if you were okay." His voice had gotten very quiet and serious, and Kathryn found herself just staring at him, not understanding.

"I was worried about you," Tom murmured. "After what happened today on the bridge."

Kathryn felt her body go numb.

"Look, I know…I know we're not really _friends_," Tom said, ducking his head almost shyly. "At least, I'm not the person you would usually confide in. But that's Chakotay and well…" He shrugged almost apologetically.

"Look, Tom," she said evenly, drawing in a deep breath, "I appreciate you coming here to check on me. I appreciate your concern." She trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

"But?" Tom's bravado was back, a self-deprecating look on his face. Kathryn opened her mouth to brush him off and then realized she couldn't. She'd longed for Chakotay's closeness all day, ached for him to just look at her for one moment without anger in his eyes. And here was Tom offering her friendship and compassion. Was she strong enough to do this? Was she strong enough to let him see her as human?

"Captain?" His voice was concerned now, and she realized belatedly that while she had been agonizing over her options, her emotions had made the decision without her. She felt her eyes stinging with unshed tears, and her lips were trembling as she tried to reply.

"I…"she began but stopped as her throat constricted. She looked away from him for a moment, rubbing her hand across her mouth, until she had regained some semblance of control. "There's no 'but,' Tom. I appreciate you having the courage to come here. So let me be as honest as I can handle right now. You came to see if I was okay. Well, I'm not. I think that you can see that. And if his behavior today was any indication, neither is Chakotay. He…we…" She pressed her hand to her mouth again, trying to quell an unguarded sob that was pressing its way upward.

Tom reached out and placed his hand over hers on the couch. When she looked at him, surprised and touched by the poignant gesture, she saw the duality in his eyes, the concern that welled in their depths and also the layer of uncertainty that somehow begged her not to tell him he had gone a step too far.

"Do you want me to talk to him, Captain?" A hint of protectiveness had entered the pilot's voice, and Kathryn almost laughed through her tears at the endearing qualities of this man.

"Tom, I can't and won't ask you to do that. This is a very private matter between the Commander and myself," she said softly. She felt her heart wrench. "Just…just take care of him for me. I think he's feeling really alone right now." Tom straightened and simply stared at her.

"You amaze me, Captain Kathryn Janeway," he murmured. Then he stood, touched her shoulder lightly, and walked towards the door.

"Tom, thank you again," Kathryn called out. Tom paused and turned to face her.

"You're welcome, Captain," he replied. "And thank _you_. For trusting me." His words said one thing but his voice said another, and she realized just how long it had been since she had trusted any of them enough to let them see who she really was.


	5. Chapter 5

The Opportunity to Be Fully Human

Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager, its characters, etc. belong to Paramount.

Chapter 5

Kathryn awakened to the awareness of a hand gently resting on her arm.

"Chakotay!" she half-whimpered, struggling to push herself into a seated position.

"No, Captain, it's me. The Doctor." The Doctor's voice, calm and faintly tinged with embarrassment. He had his hands on her shoulders now and was lightly pressing her back into the surface beneath. Kathryn peered towards the sound of his voice and saw the familiar face, worry creased between his eyes.

"Oh, Doctor. I'm sorry. The last thing I remember was being on the bridge and…" She broke off.

"It's quite all right, Captain," he answered with forced joviality. "But please, lay back and relax. I just finished treating you. Your body started rejecting the remaining Borg implants and attacking them. I have suppressed your immune response for the moment. You also suffered a concussion when you hit your head on the bridge so you may be experiencing some mild dizziness and a headache." Kathryn unconsciously pinched the bridge of her nose, almost testing to see if she did indeed have a headache. Not much of one, she discovered, just a dull throb that centered above her left eye.

"I'm fine," she said and almost laughed. How easy it was to slip back into her old ways.

"Yes, I'm sure you are," the Doctor replied, staring at her curiously. She realized she was grinning and the discovery made her laugh out loud. "Captain? Are you feeling all right?" He was scanning her with the tricorder, his lips pursed. Kathryn's laughter ceased as abruptly as it had begun. What did it say about her life, about what she portrayed to the people around her, if the Doctor became concerned about the state of her health just because she was amused? Sudden tears sprang to her eyes, and an impending sense of hopelessness fell over her like the last grasping wave of the ocean tide.

"Yes, thank you, Doctor." Her voice was husky. The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, but she held up her hand. "Really. I'm okay." She reassured him with a wry half-smile, and he backed down immediately. Uncharacteristically. Some part of her wondered if her complete breakdown in his presence the other day might even work to her advantage. Perhaps the fear of making her cry would act as a deterrent to his lectures and biting comments, at least temporarily. At least, until she started acting like her old self again.

No. Not her old self. She had promises to keep. She simply hoped that in time, there would be less tears to share and more smiles.

In time.

The Doctor sighed. "Well, Captain, I am releasing you to your quarters. _However_, you are strictly off bridge duty for the next three days. You can read PADDs and reports all you want—as long as you stay in bed." Kathryn smothered a half-hysterical giggle behind her hand. The EMH had never been so accommodating since the day he had been activated in the Delta Quadrant.

"Yes, sir," she said with a mock salute. Then she slipped off the biobed, straightening her uniform. At the door, she paused and the question took her mouth hostage before she could even pull herself together to negotiate.

"Doctor," she said uncertainly. "Commander Chakotay. Did he…" She trailed off, feeling hot shame flare across her face.

There was regret in his eyes. "No, Captain, I'm sorry. He didn't."

She nodded, shoulders slumping, and walked quickly and quietly back to her quarters where she lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling for a very long time.

**********

When she awoke again, hours later, she remained sprawled across the bed, feeling her breath exit and enter her body, feeling the crushing weight of her heart against her spine. She somehow always forgot and then marveled at how dramatically emotions grabbed hold of the physical body and made the two one, the heart sharing the pain at least with its own tabernacle if there was no one else to commiserate with. One question beat a single tattoo across her soul, pounding mercilessly with every heartbeat.

Where did she go from here?

If there was one thing that she knew, it was that you either learned from your experiences or you didn't. Which was somehow more complicated than it sounded. Learning required active participation. The learning part only happened when you were ready to look honestly at your life, look honestly at the things that were happening on a daily basis, and make some kind of decision.

Mainly—is what I'm doing, is what I'm achieving what I really want? Is it turning me into who I really want to be?

_Have I found peace?_

Kathryn Janeway was an honest woman. Sometimes a coward, she was realizing, but honest nonetheless. There were many things that she had achieved in the last few years in the Delta Quadrant. But when it came down to the bottom line, were they all things she wanted to achieve?

She knew the answer to that question as surely as she knew her name, and it made her want to cry all over again.

In some ways she had become more similar to the Borg than she cared to admit. As the captain of Voyager, who had by now totally eclipsed the woman who was Kathryn, she projected a certain image, a certain message to her crew. She had to. It was the only way to get them home. It was the only way to keep herself sane. At least, that's what she had been telling herself for six years.

_I am the captain. Resistance is futile. We _will_ make it home. We will not falter, we will not surrender, _we will not cry. _All feelings of despair, loneliness, hopelessness will be assimilated into emotional oblivion. _

But she did sometimes feel despair. Hopelessness tended to overwhelm her when she least expected it. And there was no denying that she was lonely every moment of every day.

And she had no one to blame but herself.

She was the one who kept them at arm's length and sometimes even longer. She was the one who thought she had to be larger than life in order for them to believe in her. She was the one—and probably the only one—who thought they couldn't handle seeing her as someone human.

And when it came to Chakotay, sometimes _she_ couldn't handle being human. She couldn't handle being as close as they were so she pushed him away even further. She couldn't handle hurting or disappointing him so she lashed out at him even more. She couldn't handle him losing confidence in her so she blindly made decisions of which she knew he would disapprove.

She couldn't handle the thought of ever losing him. So she made sure he was never hers in the first place.

But he _was_ hers. And she was his. Their souls were woven around one another so intricately that their lives had been bound since the day he had beamed over to her bridge.

She didn't want to deny what he had done to her these past few days. She was through with denying her feelings just so she could get through the next day, through the next battle. She was done with hiding behind the captain.

But what did it mean for her and Chakotay? That she would stay angry at him for the rest of the journey and possibly for the rest of their lives?

No. That wasn't it.

Being fully human meant taking risks.

It meant not always being right.

It meant

feeling

loving

and, she realized with an aching heart,

_forgiving._

He had stood by her all these years, even when her words, her actions, were specifically designed to knock him down. It was her turn to wait by his side no matter how his emotional storm buffeted her.

It was her turn to forgive.


	6. Chapter 6

The Opportunity to Be Fully Human

Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager, its characters, etc. belong to Paramount.

Chapter 6

Kathryn sat nestled in Chakotay's arms, her head resting against his chest where she could hear each and every heartbeat. His face was buried in her hair, and his fingers were stroking her back tenderly. The evidence of bitter tears stained both of their faces. They were exhausted, raw with emotions, and yet they clung to each other, knowing there was no one else who understood who they really were.

No one else who fitted so perfectly into every little curve, corner, and nuance of the other's soul. A perfect match, although they themselves were far from perfect.

Kathryn heard Chakotay sigh, then draw in a deep breath. He sat up but cradled her even closer against him.

"Kathryn," he murmured. "How did we get here? To this point, I mean." She was quiet for a moment. Did she still have enough courage left for what she wanted to tell him? She lifted her head and looked in his reddened eyes, seeing the sadness and regret reflected in their ebony depths. He shouldn't have to shoulder this burden alone.

"It started with my letter from Mark," she said. Chakotay looked at her uncomprehendingly.

"I don't understand," he said, reaching out a hand and lightly brushing a strand of hair off her cheek. She felt his gentle touch on her skin and somewhere deeper at the same time. His actions were always so revealing of who he really was. She wished she had the ability to express herself so fully with every gesture.

"I've known Mark since I was in elementary school. We didn't become friends until I was much older, and then we became, well, _more_. I loved him. It was a steady kind of love. A comforting kind of love that made me feel safe. He accepted me for who I was, accepted that I was first and foremost a Starfleet officer, accepted that he would always occupy second place in my life and sometimes even less than that. I didn't have to worry about what the future would hold. I didn't have to worry that I wouldn't be enough for him because he only asked for what I could easily give." She paused to take a breath, pulling herself upright so she could look fully into Chakotay's face while she spoke. His eyes registered disappointment as she detached herself from his embrace, but she quickly reached for his hands and held them tightly in hers. She needed to tell him in the hardest way possible. If she allowed him to comfort her while she spoke, it would diminish the emotional battle and make her less than who she was trying to be.

"It hurt to receive that letter from Mark. Of course it did. It's never a comfort or flattering when someone who loved you, who wanted to marry you, moves on with his life and falls in love with someone else. Even when you know that it was the only logical thing for him to do. As far as he knew, I was dead." Kathryn stopped again, feeling her breathing becoming more and more difficult. Her throat ached with emotion, and she closed her eyes for a moment to regain her strength.

"Kathryn." Chakotay's voice was worried, and his fingers traced her cheek and continued down to her lips, his thumb stroking their fullness. She caught his hand in hers and pressed a kiss to his palm, feeling her heart pound at his soft gasp. Then she brought their hands back down to her lap. She had to continue. She had to finish this.

"Yes, I was hurt. Let down. But what brought me to my knees was my fear." She felt the hot tears begin to slip down her face.

"Fear of what?" he said softly. "That you'd be stuck with me for the rest of your life instead of Mark?" He flashed his dimples, and she laughed.

"No," she said finally, ducking her head. "Fear of what you had become to me. Fear of how much I felt for you, how I needed you like I have never needed anyone. Chakotay, I thought about it, long and hard, and I realized that if the situations had been reversed, if it had been _you_ that I'd left behind in the Alpha Quadrant, there's…"—she struggled momentarily to speak through her tears—"there's no way I would have been able to go on. If it had been you, I wouldn't have been able to get out of bed in the morning, much less make it through the past six years here. If it had been you, and you had moved on, fell in love with someone else…" This time the emotions overwhelmed her, and she was unable to speak for some time. Chakotay stroked her fingers but made no other moves, understanding instinctively her unspoken thoughts.

"Kathryn," Chakotay said firmly. "If it had been me you'd left behind in the Alpha Quadrant, I would _never_ have moved on. I can promise you that." Kathryn lifted her tear-stained face.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she said sadly, echoing his own words from days before and trying to smile. But he didn't return the smile and instead fiercely cupped her face in his hands, his dark eyes burning through her.

"I never make promises I can't keep, Kathryn." His voice was intense. And then he seemed to pull back, reining in his emotions and looking almost sheepish. "I'm sorry. I just can't stand that he hurt you in any way. No, actually, I can't stand that anyone, _anyone_, would—could—give you up. I never will."

"Is that a promise?" she whispered through a half-sob.

"Yes." It was just one word, but it was so much more, and she felt herself falling through his depths, cradled in the comfort of his soul.

"Chakotay, I was scared. No, I was _terrified_ of how much I felt for you. I couldn't stand being that vulnerable. And so I pulled away."

"And what about now?" he asked, and there was fear in his eyes.

"Now, well…" There was too much to say and not enough words in the language to say it. So instead she leaned forward and kissed him, hoping that for once her actions would truly reveal who she really was. And what she was really felt. The kiss was beautiful and salty all at the same time, as the individual tears running down their cheeks mingled. And Kathryn realized that she had never felt as complete as she did at that moment.

When they finally pulled away, she could barely breathe. She fought to gain control of her lungs because there was one more defining thing she had to say to him.

"Chakotay," she whispered, because that was the most she could force from her throat.

"Yes, Kathryn."

"I just want you to know…I love you."

And all she could think about as he took her in his arms again was how grateful she was that finally, _finally_, she had allowed herself to become fully human.

The End

A/N: I just wanted to thank all of you for your reviews! Your comments mean more than I can adequately express. I am grateful that I was able to finish this version of "To Feel So Much"—but let me just say, what an emotional journey! This was much harder to write than the original for some reason. Must be that Kathryn Janeway has such complicated emotions! Thank you all again :)


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